


Rose in the Concrete

by onikaashigiri



Category: Subway Surfers
Genre: Curses, Cussing, F/M, Fanfiction, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Graphic Description, Headcanon, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Multi, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Original Character(s), Self-Insert, Strong Language, Subway Surfers - Freeform, frank subway surfers, frank x reader - Freeform, subway surfers animated series, subway surfers frank, they / them pronouns, trigger warning, x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26083141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onikaashigiri/pseuds/onikaashigiri
Summary: Frank wasn't filled in on every detail, but as far as he knew, it was only your parents who posed a threat to anyone. They were both corrupt politicians bribing their way up the hierarchy, slowly but surely passing unfair laws that would mercilessly make the rich richer and the poor poorer. Frank's organization, Legion, had always assured Frank that each hit he'd been ordered to carry out was for the greater good.Why did he feel that way? You weren't supposed to mean anything to him. Just another name to add to the hitlist.Pierre narrowed his eyes. "I hope you know, mon lapin," he said, walking towards his motorbike. "That roses have thorns."
Relationships: Frank/Reader, Frank/Reader (Subway Surfers)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Set the Date

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by @stonylip on ig/tiktok.  
> uses ____ instead of y/n. they/them pronouns.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mystery man go brr

You’d been surfing through the dating app yesterday, not really expecting to find anyone to meet your standards or fit your needs, but this one caught your eye. You didn’t really know why you had the app in the first place, but you were curiously drawn to this profile. 

It was a match. You texted each other and set a date to meet. His texts had an ominous feeling to them. 

***

_“It’s perfectly planned, don’t worry,” the message read._

_“How will I know it’s you?”_

_“You’ll know.”_

***

The texts he sent this morning made it sound like their meeting was an interview. You planned to meet at the park, so you wore some comfortable clothing; a pair of sweatpants and a fit, black tank top. You threw on a windbreaker for an extra layer and put your phone and some cash into its inside pockets. You went to wear your favorite sneakers and walked out the door and headed toward your car. 

You got inside and turned the engine on. The gravel under the tires gave a satisfying crunch as you left the garage. The trip to the park was a short one, but the satisfaction of driving was greater. Trees passed by in a blur as other cars did. People with their own little missions and lives.

The parking lot was mildly empty with only six to seven cars occupying it. 

“I guess people are busy today,” you closed the car door and locked up.

The sound of leaves cracking under the pressure of your footsteps occupied the air. The trees were orange and yellow, complementary to the sky above so baby blue. Clouds floated in the sky, speeding slightly as the wind picked up. The sound of birds chirping filled the air with song and youth, the highlight of the morning. 

The bridge came into view as you took a few more steps. There weren’t many people except a couple having a picnic in the distance and a person doing their daily jog. But one stood out from the others. 

A tall man stood over the river, his arms resting on the railing. He wore a suit of black, a red tie worn over his white undershirt being the most noticeable. His hands were covered with gloves, laced with mystery. The figure looked down into the river watching the leaves follow the stream, his hair neatly meeting his shoulders, the same color as autumn season.

He looked up and locked gazes with you. A heat rose in your face as you walked over to him. 

You reached the bridge, the deep, loud thump of the wood vibrating throughout your body. The mystery man continued to look over the water until you stood next to him, copying his body language and looking over the water also. 

“Is it you?” You asked as you watched a few sticks pass by and under the bridge. You turned around and rested your elbows on the railing, putting your hands into your windbreaker pockets. 

He chuckled, a deep vibration in his throat. He turned his body slowly to face you and you saw his face clearly for the first time. His eyes, red as rubies, twinkled in the day and met your gaze.

“Yes, it’s me.” His voice was deep and smooth like butter, his words flowing out like a clear lake over smooth stone.

“You said you had a plan for us today.”

“That is correct.”

“You said it was– perfect?”

He nodded, grinning. His grin felt menacing in some way, but you brushed it off as you were becoming interested in this suited man. His eyes felt piercing, being an oddly red color, as he scanned your face up and down. It seemed that he couldn’t keep his hands still, constantly opening and closing them, the gloves outlining his knuckles and producing the sound of creaking leather.

“You’re making me feel underdressed,” you looked up and down yourself, frowning as you compared herself to the man next to you. He threw his head back laughing heartily and shook his head as he calmed down. 

“May we?” He held out his hand, gesturing for you to take it. 

You slowly made contact with his leathered touch and walked with him through the park, holding onto his arm.

“Hey, so what’s your name anyway?”

A long silence occurred between the two of you, the crunching of grounded leaves being the only sound. 

“Frank.”

He grinned as he said his own name, rubbing his thumb over your hand.

“And it’s quite a pleasure to meet you, ____.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is also on wattpad! i am @honeeabb, but this one is a more refined version with the reader instead of our self insert oc.


	2. Getting Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rain?

“How- How do you know my name?” A slight fear arose inside of you, slightly blocking your throat.

“You told me in the messages.” Frank gave you a confused look. “Do you... not remember?”

You scratched your chin, searching through your memories to see if you actually told him your name through messages. It shouldn’t have been difficult since you messaged each other yesterday, but it seemed that your memory was flunky at the moment. 

“I guess I did forget…” You held your face in your free hand and shook your head, laughing. “I’m sorry my memory doesn’t work sometimes.” 

Frank only smiled and went back to looking forward on the path.

The two of you dwelled in silence for a moment, taking in the blissful beauty of the park while strolling hand in hand. A chilly breeze gently rustled the colourful leaves, shaking some of them off the trees; they fell gracefully as if a friendly hand was gently lowering them to the ground. In this dreamy atmosphere, you felt like you were entranced. 

Snapping out of your daze, you realised that Frank hadn’t let go of your hand this whole time. Affection or chivalry? You didn’t really mind; you found the cool leather of his glove strangely comforting, especially as he gently circled his thumb around yours.

“Your hands,” you said with a playful smile, deciding to break the silence. “You can’t keep them still, huh?”

Sunbeams that poured through gaps in the autumn leaves slowly faded, concealed by lazy grey clouds drifting in the sky.

“No, I guess I can’t,” Frank replied, chuckling softly. “We all have our bad habits.” He raised your hand, carefully flattening out your fingers and running his gloved ones over your stubby, bitten nails. They were each nibbled down past the point where the nail meets skin. Along the top of each was a pronounced raw-pink ridge and on some of them flecks of red. 

Your cheeks burned hot with a flurry of emotions as you snatched her hand away. Not only were you embarrassed, and rather mad at his observational skills to have pointed out one of your worst habits, but his tender touch had caught you off guard. Mesmerised and distracted, you somehow managed to trip over absolutely nothing on the smoothly paved path.

In a quick moment, Frank rapidly caught you by your wrist, gripping it tightly as a means of steadying you and setting you back on your feet.

"What did you trip over, a pebble?" he remarks, a subtle smirk playing on his lips, a soft laugh producing. 

You racked your mind for a witty response, but found yourself too flustered at the low sound of his voice. It echoed in the walls of your skull. For someone who seemed so quiet, every time he spoke his words were like vanilla, sweet in their suave sort of way. It was the warmth and richness of his tones that seemed to completely weaken her.

Fearing that your vocal cords would give way and humiliate you further, you stuffed your hands into your pockets and quickly thought of how to change the subject. You dared to meet his eyes again. 

“Are you wearing contact lens- ugh!” Your query was cut off by a raindrop falling right into your eye as you looked up at Frank. 

Frank looked up too and realised that heavy, grey clouds were swirling ominously overhead. 

“This ‘perfect’ date you had planned for us today doesn’t happen to be outdoors, does it?”

He looked down at you. 

_Fuck,_ you thought to yourself. Even just a glance felt like he was staring intensely into your soul.

He looked up again, holding his hand up above his head feeling the raindrops tap his gloves lightly, studying the sky. “We’ll see when we get there.” 


	3. Open Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you almost die what the fuck

Frank clenched his fist beside him as he observed the water falling from the heavens. This was not according to plan, but he'll have to adjust to the minor setback. 

He heard a little giggle from the girl beside him. He looked over and saw you embracing the rain. Your arms were open wide as if you were receiving a hug from the water, your face towards the sky, eyes closed, lips turned up into a smile. 

You were twirling under the sky and laughing as you drank the raindrops. Your hair was starting to catch the water, like morning dew on a web. It highlighted some parts of your hair, causing it to shine. 

Frank watched as his problems grew. He set down his hand and gave the sky one more glance. The calm before the storm. There was sure to be more rain after a few minutes. They had to move, and they had to do it fast, he thought. 

You looked over to Frank who didn't seem to be enjoying himself. 

"Oh come on, have a little spirit! It's a little rain, so what?" You nudged Frank on the shoulder and grabbed his hands. You started waving your arms together up and down, dancing to nonexistence music, but the pattering of the rain on the earth. You jumped and laughed and spun. Frank almost seemed to lose himself. 

"Where did you park?" Frank interrupted abruptly, gripping you by the shoulders and making you face towards him. The smile from your face turned into a shock as you were interrupted from your rain dance. 

“Just at the parking lot near the playground, why?” Frank gave a little frown at your answer.

“That’s too far now. Do you trust me?” Frank offered his hand once more, this time risking getting you too close for comfort. An hour with you is enough to work out your spontaneous personality, an incompatible partner for his perfectionist self. The rain picked up strength and Frank was losing patience. 

You were hesitant since you just met him. Trust him? Seemed a little too much and it was only raining. Frank seemed like a cat, disliking the rain. You noticed Frank getting impatient, so you took his hand. 

Frank pulled you close to him as he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it above yourselves as a temporary umbrella from getting more drenched. You put up your hood as Frank wrapped his left arm around you to keep you close. You walked toward a gathering of trees where you have never been to before. Past the trees was a fence that blocked off train tracks. 

You began to feel a little worried and suspicious. Why would he park here? How did he even get to the bridge in the first place? You found yourself running out of breath as you tried to keep up with Frank’s long strides. 

You went through an opening in the fence that led to a train yard. As you neared the first train tracks you stopped suddenly, out of breath from trying to match Frank’s long steps. The rain grew louder in your ears and stronger as it fell. A train horn sounded, accompanying the drenched atmosphere.

You didn’t hear the warning as you were staring at the ground, your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath. Your hair was a tangled mess as it was drenched in the rain, your hood taken off. You only saw a glimpse of light until you felt a sharp yank on your wrist. 

You yelped as you felt the warmth of Frank’s drenched undershirt. He held you close to his chest, still holding his suit jacket over yourselves. You felt the rise and fall of his chest as your hands rested on them. His white undershirt was becoming slightly transparent, the rain outlining his torso. You looked up and saw Frank stare at the passing train, it’s wheels racking on the railings loudly. 

Frank watched as the train drove by, it’s length seemed never ending, the lights emitting from it’s windows creating another dreamy atmosphere. In the seconds passing by, Frank felt your small body against his chest, a pocket of heat. He felt his arm rising and falling, their breathing reaching the same pace. Frank felt your head rest on his chest, and for a fleeting moment, he remembered what it was like to be free. 

The last portion of the train left your view and Frank turned you around to face him, grabbing you by the arms and wearing his jacket around himself temporarily. He met your gaze, piercing like thorns on a rose meeting honeycomb pools. His gaze was hard and stern against your soft look, almost fragile. His eyebrows were furrowed together, yours were rested and worried. 

“Are you alright? Look where you’re going next time. That’s the second time today.” Frank’s voice was slow and serious. It sounded like he was almost worried for you. 

You nodded your head slowly and hugged him. Frank jumped backwards, not knowing what to do for a second. 

“Thank you.” You let out a breath, not realizing you could have died that moment. 

Frank rested his chin on your head and closed his eyes. 

He shook his head afterwards.  _ What am I doing? _ He thought to himself. Wasn’t he supposed to keep you away? This isn’t supposed to happen. What’s happening? What are you doing? 

Frank pushed you off gently as if to get rid of the spell you were already putting on him. 

“Let’s go, my motorcycle is just a few steps away.”

“Motorcycle?”


	4. Motorcylce?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adventure time :)

You let yourself trail a few steps behind Frank as you cautiously followed him further down the side of the train tracks. You hugged his suit jacket (he wrapped it around you after making sure you were okay) tighter around as the heavy downpour picked up even more strength.

You watched him carefully as he ran his hands through his shoulder length-hair. It was slightly curly in it’s drenched state. It dangled over his pristine white shirt which was now clinging to his body, framing his slender physique. 

Your eyes fell to his—now muddied—black leather shoes. They had no creases, but the lustrous gold buckles were now tarnished with dirt.

“Ha! I’m not so underdressed now, am I?”

“Watch it.” You could almost hear Frank’s smile. “Look, we’re here.”

You didn’t know exactly how you got there, but there it was, propped up against a heavily graffitied wall. The spotless, jet-black bike gleamed under the weak artificial glow of a street light. It was sleek, almost futuristic, with its simple and modern design.

You approached it like it was a living thing, softly running your hands along the creature’s frame in complete awe.

“No way…”

Frank removed a small hair tie from his wrist and dutifully tied his dripping hair back into a low ponytail. A few shorter strands hung in front of his face which he quickly tucked behind his ear.

He noticed you gazing in wonder at the vehicle and raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever ridden one before?”

You met his crimson eyes. “First time for everything! Now, how do you get on this thing…”

He didn’t expect your eagerness, but was thankful for it. After all, riding on one of his most precious possessions through torrential rain and mud was not ideal; and definitely not part of his plan. But hey, at least you were having fun.

You watched him as he unhooked a helmet from the handle bars. “As much as I’m loving this _mysterious_ vibe you’ve got going on... are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?”

Frank remained silent, fastening the black and red helmet on his head.

You frowned. “Please?” You leaned forward, nonchalantly resting your arms on the front of the bike. “Come on, the suspense is _killing_ me.”

He grinned subtly at your choice of words, while getting on the motorbike. “You’re not very patient, are you?” he said, gently pushing your arms off the windshield. “Just hop on. Deep down you know you don’t really care where we’re going.” He slotted the keys into the ignition.

“It’s an _adventure_ ,” he said dryly, with jazz hands.

You glared at him, holding back your smile. He was right, of course, but you didn’t like that he already knew you so well. You stood firmly in front of the bike, trying to act unfazed by the pouring rain beating down on you.

Frank sighed, becoming exasperated now. “We’re going somewhere special. Get on the damn bike.”


	5. Proper Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you finally have a proper date, or do you?

Frank turned the engine on, a loud growl resonating from its insides. It was almost muffled, sounding like a mix of a wolf and bear snarling. He turned the handles, revving the engine, giving the motorcycle some gas as a warm up. 

“Hurry up.” His voice was quieter inside his helmet.

You put on Frank’s drenched suit jacket and checked inside your own to see if your phone was okay. Your cash was in the phone case so both should be fairly fine for now. You walked around the motorcycle and stood in front of the open space behind Frank, who was now leaning into the handles. 

He looked back, noticing you weren’t on yet. He sat up, becoming impatient once more. Frank sighed as the rain tapped on his helmet loudly. Holding out his hand as a guide, you took it and swung your leg over the metal beast. 

You wrapped your arms around his waist, not bothering to put on your hood since the wind will take it off anyway. With your arms around him, Frank was searching for something somewhere on his bike. A few seconds later, he pulled out a mask for you to wear. 

“Protect that pretty face of yours.” He said as he handed the mask. 

You wrapped the black face mask around your mouth and over your nose, blushing. You felt Frank lean forward into the handles. The rain continued to pour, the raindrops making a satisfying pit pattering noise on the metal and Frank’s helmet. 

Frank kicked up the side stand and balanced the motorcycle with his legs. He positioned the bike so that leaving the abandoned train yard would be easier. You didn’t see any way out or in, wondering how Frank could have possibly got inside. But that was besides the point right now. 

“You might want to keep close, don’t want that water ruining those honeycomb eyes do we?” You huddled close to Frank, feeling his damp shirt under you. You hugged his waist and propped your feet on the small rests the vehicle provided. 

Frank revved the engine easing slowly into the ride. As they moved forward, Frank began propping up his feet into the gears and leaning towards the turns. 

The rain turned into white noise as they rode away from the train tracks. Luckily the wind wasn’t that strong to make the ride difficult. But at the same time, it was thrilling to see your surroundings as you traveled. You felt the wind pass through your hair and the rain gently streak the revealed parts of your face. It was getting chilly and you were a bit concerned for Frank since you were wearing his jacket, but there was nothing you could do now. All you could do now was give warmth to him by hugging closer. 

You rested your face on his back, enjoying the ride and watching the blur of stop lights and different colored cars zoom by. It felt like a living dream. A movie scene. You almost wished it would never end. 

Frank enjoyed riding. It was a chunk of peace from his troubled past that he treasured. It washed away his worries and eased his fidgeting. He enhanced his focus to his surroundings when he rode his motorcycle. Now there was an added focus. He recognized your gentle touch against his dress shirt. Your hug became tighter as a means of transferring heat in this chilly morning. 

He appreciated the warmth of your gestures. But he had to keep his head in the game. If this kept up, he would slip. He kept his attention to the road and the surroundings. 

You began to recognize the buildings around you. You knew these streets. You knew these stores and corners. They were going to your favorite diner. A soft glow rose in you, this diner meant a lot. 

A few more turns and you reached your destination. The rain had subsided and weakened, now soft drops on Frank’s helmet rather than aggressive ones. It had turned into a drizzle and the clouds above had started clearing slowly. 

Frank parked his motorcycle in the parking lot just outside the diner. He propped up the side stand and leaned the vehicle on it. You watched as he turned the key, shutting the engine off and hopping off with ease. With his helmet still on, he gave up a gloved hand to help you down. 

You took his hand, trusting him a little more. You swung your leg around the seat, having some difficulty with your muddied sneakers. The oversized jacket around you made you miss your grip, causing you to fall again. 

Luckily, Frank caught you with both his hands, not saying anything behind his helmet. You swore under your breath, you could practically sense his smirk. Frank helped you up and smoothened his suit jacket around you. A heat rose in your cheeks as you took off the mask, crossing your arms and pouting like a child. 

Frank unbuckled his helmet and took it off. Under that helmet, he was smiling the whole time. He put the helmet between his arm and side and ruffled his damp hair with his other, raising an eyebrow at the small, soaked person in front of him. 

“What’s up with you and falling?” 

You opened your mouth to object, but couldn’t find anything to come back with. So you pouted even more and forcefully gave the mask back to him.

Frank shook his head, laughing, and told you to keep it proceeding to latch the helmet onto one of the handles of the motorcycle. The sun shone through some parts of the grey clouds, bits of sunlight like streaks of yellow paint on a dull canvas. He straightened his wet tie that was attached to his dress shirt. At this point, the rain had fully stopped. 

The two of you stood outside for a few minutes to let yourselves dry out in the weak sun, squeezing certain parts of your clothing to thoroughly make sure they were dry enough to enter the diner. You took out your phone from your windbreaker inside pocket and checked the time. 

“It’s 12pm?!” You exclaimed, surprised you’d been outside so long. “We met at 9am. We’ve been together for 3 hours already!” 

“Are you complaining?” Frank asked in a low tone, squeezing bits of his hair and ruffling it giving it a curly hint. 

The curls in your hair began to come back to life as it was drying, though it was soon to be a mess.

“Well, no…” It was a genuine answer. 

“Then come on, we should be okay.” He gestured to you to follow as he walked towards the entrance. 

You wiped your shoes on the mat and Frank opened the glass door for you to walk through first. You uttered a small “thank you” as you passed by. He closed the door behind as you walked up to the counter and asked for a table for two. 

The waitress showed the two their booth. The seats were bench like, but cushioned and back to back. A table in the middle with condiments near the wall and utensils on both sides separated two that faced each other. Frank sat on one side while you sat on the other so that you faced each other. The waitress handed the menus and gave a smile as she left for you to pick your order. 

Frank was wary about his surroundings again as he scanned the tables one by one, holding the menu to his face. You, on the other hand, was surfing through the pictures and the orders that came with them.

“Do you think breakfast still applies even though it’s 12pm?” Your bubbly voice struck Frank. He watched you glaze your finger through the orders as you were on the breakfast portion. He gave no response as he continued to observe your actions. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you debated whether you should order breakfast or lunch, flipping from one page to another.

Frank put down his menu and linked his hands together, resting his elbows on top of the menu. He pressed his gloved fingers to his lips then moved to resting his chin on them as he asked her for a request. 

“Why don’t you order for me?” His crimson eyes shone as he watched you flip through the big pages. 

There was a visible exclamation point you made with your expression as you looked up. You were giddy and smiled at Frank catching him off guard. 

“Ok! Let’s see… What would you be into…” 

Frank watched as you picked a meal for both of them. The waitress came back and asked for your orders. You confidently told the waitress what you’ll eat and drink. 

“Two coffees with creamer plea-”

“One black.” Frank interrupted. 

The waitress looked at both of you, scribbling out writing in her notepad.

You held up two fingers, but now put down one since Frank interrupted. “Two coffees, one with creamer and one black please.” 

“Will that be all?” The waitress asked as you nodded, proceeding to collect the menus. 

“Your order will arrive shortly.”

In the meantime, you tried to start small talk since this is your first date and everything, you might as well get to know him. 

“You do realize we’re going to have to go back for my car right?” You were worried for your car. You were, in fact, very attached to it. 

“Mmm,” was all the man across from you said as he was looking out a nearby window, his arms now resting on top of each other. He’s not one to doze off but he couldn’t help but feel exhausted ever since he’s met you. 

You waved your hand in front of Frank’s face to get his attention.

“Hello???? Earth to Frank?” Frank snapped out of his dazed state and looked at you. He realized that that was the first time you’ve said his name. It was kind of… nice. 

“So, what do you do?” you asked, intrigued by his mystery. Frank only smiled and didn’t answer. He concealed his personal backstory from anyone. He wasn’t about to break his streak now. 

“Ohhh, you wouldn’t want to hear my sob story.” Frank said, waving his hand, his movements were in a slowed manner. His eyes stayed on yours. You felt star struck, but you weren’t going to show it. You’ve only just met him. You can put up a wall too. 

“How about your family?” No answer from Frank again. 

You gave up and just waited for your meals. You were quite hungry. All you ate was a small sandwich on your way out to the car. You couldn't wait for the fluffy pancakes and their sweet aroma, the butter melting on the warm surface. You whimpered just thinking about it. 

Frank had other things on his mind. He was adjusting his plans on how to keep Rose distracted and away from the real crime scene without her suspecting anything. He began tapping his fingers on the wooden table resting his face in his palm. 

The waitress came back with two big plates, one with pancakes and hash browns and bacon, the other with french toast, scrambled eggs, and sausages. The aroma in the diner became even more flavorful. You were basically jumping in your seat, while Frank just observed. 

The waitress placed their food and you almost began eating right away. She also gave them their coffees, placing the one with creamer next to you and the black one next to Frank’s plate. She bid a good meal and went away to tend to other customers. 

Frank quite enjoyed the french toast. You tried to compose yourself from eating sloppily, you were just really hungry having not eaten a proper breakfast. 

The white noise of utensils clattering on plates and the distant chattering always made you calm. The sun shining through the windows and giving the wooden tables a golden glow gave you joy. It was relaxing to be in this diner. You ate with a good appetite, even Frank enjoyed himself a little bit, sipping from his cup of black coffee. 

You finished at half past one and were now paying for the meal. As you were getting your cash from your phone case, Frank reached out and lowered his hand onto yours. You stopped what you were doing, surprised at the sight of gloved hands. You looked up and saw Frank, a man of few words, smiling genuinely.

“Let me pay.” Frank reached for something in his pockets, money appearing in his hands afterwards. 

“What are you now, a magician?” You giggled. 

Frank smiled, a small laugh escaping his lips, but as he was counting the money, a small flash in the distance caught his eye. He looked up abruptly and saw someone familiar. Too familiar and dangerous to his mission. 

His smile faded as he placed two twenty-dollar bills on the table. You recognized his hurried movements and looked behind. 

“Is something wrong?” 

Frank straightened his tie, getting up from his seat, “Gather your things, we have to go.”

His tone was serious, it concerned you. You put your phone in your inside pocket and got up from the table. You gave Frank his suit jacket back, not needing it anymore. He gently took it from and threw it across his arm. 

Frank let you ahead of him and followed after to the exit. He gave one last look to the place as he turned his back and walked out the door.


	6. Keep your Guard Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "it’s funny how being ‘frank’ is to be open and honest about everything" - s🦋

Frank was walking even faster than usual, you were struggling to keep up with him. 

“Frank, what’s going on? Where are we going now?” you asked, startled by his sudden change of spirit.

Frank pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked something, murmuring to himself. You noticed that this was the first time he’d used it throughout their whole date.

“Frank?” you repeated.

“I- I’m sorry. I’ll explain later, I promise.” His hasty walk grew to more of a light run towards his bike. The motorcycle looked even better in the emerging sunlight, reflecting the sun’s golden rays off its glossy black finish.

You stopped and looked back at the diner, confused. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

“Listen, I understand if you have somewhere else you need to be-”

Frank had reached his vehicle and quickly turned around to face her. “____, come on! We need to leave, right now!” he pleaded.

You pouted. You weren’t sure why this man expected you to trust him, especially when he was seemingly keeping so much from you. However, her mind slipped back to a few hours ago when Frank had saved your life. You could almost hear the train horn blaring over the clamor of heavy rain. You could see the blinding headlights dazzling your sight momentarily. You could feel Frank’s gloved hand snatching you back to safety; and his steady heartbeat in your close embrace…

As cryptic and secretive as he may have been, he had proven that he was truly looking out for you. So, praying that he really did have your best interests at heart, you started jogging towards Frank, who was already putting on his helmet.

Frank’s gaze shifted from you to the diner again as you approached him. You noticed his expression hardening, but Frank was already helping you on the bike before you could turn around again.

“I trust you,” you said sincerely, as you swung your leg over the seat. “I just wish you’d be more open. You can trust me too, you know.”

This caught Frank off guard. He thought about everything he had been taught about trust from his job. How it’s built; how it’s proven, solidified; how easily it can be broken.

Frank got on the motorcycle and started the engine. “Thanks,” he said flatly.

He kicked up the side stand and promptly backed out of the parking space, wasting no time. You hugged closer to him, anticipating a not-so-smooth ride ahead.

You left the gravelly parking lot, leaving behind the diner. You felt the unease just from the way Frank rode. His hands kept twitching, fingers going on and off from the handles. You felt him trying to steady his breath by the rise and fall of his back. And you could almost feel his eyes darting from place to place. You may have just met him, but you knew enough to recognise his habits. 

You watched the diner grow smaller and smaller as you rode away from its view. Your hair was a mess in the wind, your windbreaker flapping loudly. You watched as the same colored cars whizzed by, the height difference from the buildings, the store names, the colors of the buildings; they were all a blur in your memory, the only stable color was the sky above, the same baby blue.

The trip put you on edge as she felt Frank’s heavy silence. Although the wind in your ears was loud, the ride felt deafeningly quiet. It felt like a plain canvas... 

_Frank felt like a plain canvas_ , you thought to yourself. A canvas that you wanted to paint and fill in. You rested your cheek on Frank’s cold, stiff suit jacket that he wore before they rode away. You stayed quiet and watched the scenery flatly as you became lost in your thoughts. 

His mystery kept your head running. Why were you trusting him? Why is he keeping things from you? Why did you have to leave in such a hurry? Why was he parked at an abandoned train yard? How did he even get here? Questions filled your head as you tried breaking down his wall. You just wished you could figure him out, but until then, you’ll have to start stroke by stroke. 

Frank’s silence was caused by his nervous state. His hands twitched due to his troubling thoughts. His fingers went on and off the handles because he was worried; they were almost definitely being followed.

He turned on the curbs harshly, and leaned roughly on the turns. He felt your worry as your grip tightened on his clothing when they turned on a curb. He didn’t like the ride himself since it was bumpy than usual, but he was in a hurry to be somewhere where his former partner wouldn’t be. 

The thought of him made Frank sick. His stomach churned and his gaze hardened on the road under his helmet. He began muttering, causing the ride to become worse than it was. After a while, Frank felt you tug on his jacket, sensing your unease. He tried going softer on the turns, but the ride wasn’t any less uncomfortable.

The ride felt like it lasted an hour, but realistically only lasted ten minutes. You snapped out of your cloud of thoughts and looked around, recognizing the scenery around you. 

“Oh, we’re back at the park?”

Frank began to slow down, coming to a stop just off the bridge where you’d met a mere few hours earlier. “I’ll have to drop you off here, ____,” he said, his low voice muffled by his helmet.

You sat up straighter. “What?” 

Suddenly you felt like time was moving too fast; the couple of hours you’d spent together had rushed by in a blur.

Frank flicked up his helmet’s visor, turning to face you. “I’m sorry not everything went to plan.” You noticed that he couldn’t hold eye contact. Something was really worrying him.

“It was meant to be… perfect.” 

Your eyebrows knit together while slowly getting off the motorbike. You’d already come to the conclusion that Frank was obsessed with this idea of perfection. He might’ve been apologising to you, but you could sense that he was more disappointed in himself. Why?

You wished you could climb into his head and delve deeper into his thoughts. His nervous habits and subtle expressions could only tell so much.

You cursed her curious mind. As frustrating as Frank’s secrecy was, it was somewhat intriguing. You wanted to figure him out like a puzzle; except Frank was hiding some of the pieces. 

Maybe you just wanted to sit and talk to him about anything and everything for hours on end. You longed to go somewhere desolate - just the two of you, alone under the baby blue sky - where you would open up to each other about their fears and hopes and dreams and memories. No time limit.

You knew you were getting in over your head. Hell, you’d been on _one_ date with the man. He didn’t owe you his candor. But there was something so captivating about Frank’s ruby red eyes. A sweet meadow of poppies, tulips and roses that she wanted to dive into head-first and get lost in.

Maybe the date didn’t end as Frank planned it to, but you loved the spontaneity - not knowing what to expect. Even if in some moments it was daunting, you had fun. You weren’t one to get attached quickly, but you just loved spending time with him and really, really didn’t want it to end. 

_Why?_

"Hey," you stepped beside Frank and fondly put your hand over his. You could feel him twitching occasionally.

“It _was_ perfect.” You said with a genuine smile.

”And... if you think otherwise, maybe we could try again sometime?” You looked into his eyes and realised how badly you wanted to see him again. Even if just to spend one more hour daydreaming on the back of his motorcycle, hair blowing in the wind while you rest her head on his back. A blissful dream.

Frank stared back intensely for a moment, switching from eye to eye like he was searching for something. Then he dropped his gaze, looking off to the side. “Sure,” he said quietly. He inhaled sharply, trying to steady his shaky breath. 

He removed his hand from your gentle grasp. 

“I’ll see you around.” Except he wasn’t sure if he would.

You stepped back, wary of his changing mood, holding your hands close.

Flicking his visor back down, he turned around and started to drive away.

Frank was confused and conflicted, because the pang in his chest that he felt as he watched you turn and walk away through the side mirror felt all too familiar. 

He was letting his guard down.


	7. Pierre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not even a bonjour?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( Frank centered chapter )

Frank gripped the handlebars tighter as he picked up speed, now back onto the main road. He had to push all his whirring thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on his priority right now. Get as far away from you as possible.

The familiar person he’d seen at the diner was bound to have followed them, and was probably even hotter on Frank’s trail now that he’d taken so painfully long to say goodbye. At this point, there was no way he could escape his pursuer, but the least he could do was throw them off your path. Otherwise, everything he’d planned for would fall apart.

He sped down the street, blatantly ignoring the speed limit. Car horns blared at him as he dangerously weaved in and out of gaps between vehicles, racing in the opposite direction of where your car was parked. If he could put enough distance between them, you would remain untouched. For now.

Approaching a sharp turn, he swerved instinctually. It wasn’t until he saw the police car inches away from his bike that he realised he’d run a red light.

_Ah, shit._

Rolling his eyes under his visor, he revved his engine to accelerate even more. He knew it wouldn’t be difficult to evade the cops - it’s not like he hadn’t done so before - but now definitely wasn’t the time to play chase.

Sirens began to wail in the distance, and Frank could hear them approaching quickly.

He hastily observed his surroundings; traffic was too busy to outrun this obstacle. He’d have to hide - just for a little while to let things cool down.

He slowed down, spotting a narrow alley where he could lay low. Being between two tall buildings, the shadows would hopefully provide some cover. However, as he turned into it, what he saw made his heart drop.

A tall man, also in a sharp black suit, was leaned against the wall watching something intently on a small tablet. His own motorcycle was also propped up against the wall, its design identical to Frank’s except for it’s deep matte purple hue.

As Frank came to a stop, the man looked up at him, his bright purple eyes almost glowing against his ebony skin. He smiled slyly at Frank, sensing the discomfort radiating from his twitchy hands.

Frank took off his helmet. “Pierre.”

The man raised one eyebrow, which was slashed by scar. “Bunny boy! Why the long face?” 

Frank scowled at his jovial tone. Pierre Froid was _literally_ stone cold. In the six years he’d known him, every feeling he had outwardly shown was either an act of mockery or manipulation. A man of no emotions. Frank almost envied him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Frank was dead serious as he got off his bike and advanced towards Pierre.

The man’s sturdy stature was admittedly intimidating; even when leaned against the wall, Frank was just about eye level with Pierre. Frank glared at him nonetheless, seething with resentment.

“Not even a bonjour? Come on,” Pierre chuckled. “That’s no way to greet your new boss, is it?”

Frank dropped his helmet and it fell with a thump on the concrete floor, like this statement falling with a similar hit in Frank’s heart.

There was no way in the depths of hell that Pierre - lousy, piggy-backing, _useless_ Pierre - had been promoted to this position. Frank, of all people, knew that guns blazing, short-tempered, impulsive Pierre was not fit for leadership in the slightest. Not in this job.

Pierre tilted his head. “What’s bothering you, mon ami?” Frank found his cheesy grin infuriating.

“Congrats.” He uttered through gritted teeth.

“Merci. I try my best.”

Frank clenched his fist. It took all of his willpower to not physically wipe the smirk off his face.

Pierre stuck his tablet into his blazer pocket, and clapped his hands together. “So! Where’s this target of yours? I thought I’d see ‘em around. You know… seeing as you’re meant to be with ‘em all day.” 

Frank ignored his question. “You tracked me.”

“Why, of course! I have to keep tabs on all my busy worker bees.” With every mischievous smile and empty laugh, the poisonous anger in Frank’s chest grew hotter and hotter. He wasn’t one to lose control of his emotions... but Pierre definitely knew how to push his buttons.

Before Frank could respond, a police car zoomed by. They both waited until the ear-splitting sirens faded into the distance. Pierre’s gaze followed the car and then he looked back to Frank with a knowing smile.

“Anyway, I was hoping I could say hello to them. What was the name again… ______?” Frank narrowed his eyes as Pierre emphasised your name with his smooth French accent.

“Yeah.” he looked away. “I think it’d be best if you didn’t interact. At all.”

“Why not, they seem lovely!” Pierre said with a menacing smile.

“You have a habit of getting in my way.”

His tone became more serious as he stood up straighter. “And what exactly is that supposed to-”

“You’ve already done it, Pierre!” Frank’s anger had reached its boiling point. “My mission was just to distract them for two days. Two days! How simple, right? And I had it planned out _perfectly_! We spend all day together, then tonight they sleep at my faux apartment.” He was speaking incredibly fast. “Then we spend the next day together and I don’t let them out of my sight until the bigger job is finished. Then I implant the tracker and we go our separate ways, happily ever after.”

He started pacing back and forth, a raging nervous wreck. Pierre watched him carefully .“But no, I see _you_ at the diner and you put everything in jeopardy - again! If they saw you and put the pieces together... it’d be _over._ I’m supposed to be with them right now. Legion wants them _alive_. And I’m supposed to be watching them so they don’t go to their parents’ house. Now everything’s gone to shit.”

Frank finally breathed, digging his fingers into his temples. Pierre stayed silent for a moment, deep in thought. Then his smirk was plastered back on his face.

“Funny thing,” Frank looked up at him, dreading his next words. “Change of plans! Legion wants ‘em dead too.”

Frank’s heart dropped. He could almost feel Pierre sticking a dagger right into his chest. 

_Dead?_ Why?

Frank wasn’t filled in on every detail but, as far as he knew, it was only your parents who posed a threat to anyone. They were both corrupt politicians bribing their way up the hierarchy, slowly but surely passing unfair laws that would mercilessly make the rich richer and the poor poorer. Frank’s organisation, Legion, had always assured Frank that each hit he’d been ordered to carry out was for the greater good.

But you? It just… it didn’t feel right. Frank was only meant to keep you busy and ensure you didn’t have any contact with your parents while Legion’s elaborate assassination operation was being carried out at your parents’ house.

And on top of that, you seemed pretty sweet. 

Why did he feel that way? You weren’t supposed to mean anything to him. Just another name to add to the hitlist. 

So why did his heart feel so heavy hearing those words?

Frank was careful not to express any of his thoughts outwardly. He could feel Pierre’s eyes studying him, closely analysing his reaction.

“Makes things easier, you know?” He continued. “Nice and simple, no complications, no loose ends.” He returned to his relaxed position, leaning against the wall as if he hadn’t just ordered an innocent 19-year-old’s execution.

He felt Frank’s heavy silence. “That isn’t a problem, is it?

Frank avoided his eyes. “No. No, of course not.”

“Bien. Have it dealt with in three days - no later. This mission is important.”

Frank nodded, but he found himself fighting to hold back from screaming, or hitting something. Or someone.

Pierre narrowed his eyes. “I hope you know, mon lapin,” he said, walking towards his motorbike. “That roses have thorns.”


	8. Thinking of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> second chances

Frank stood his ground and watched as Pierre put on his deep purple helmet. He swung his leg over the seat and kicked the side stand in place, revving the engine by the handle.

Pierre sat back, balancing the motorbike with his weight. 

"See you around, Frank." He clicked his tongue and grinned, crinkling his nose and saluted with two fingers, pulling the helmet visor down with them. 

Pierre leaned onto the vehicle and drove slowly in the alleyway. For a stone cold killer, he looked both ways before merging into the road. Frank had to move out of the way though because he knew that Pierre wouldn't give a shit if he ran him over. 

The roar of Pierre's engine became distant as he grew farther and farther. Frank looked around in the alleyway to check if they were being watched. Paranoid or cautious? He was a mix of both. 

He began to walk over to his motorcycle blankly, lost in thought. With no one around to see him, he made a visible expression of confusion, the kind that made your nose crinkle and furrow your eyebrows together.  _ What did he mean, 'that roses have thorns?' _ Frank kept asking the same question to himself. 

He put on his helmet and latched on the strap, making a satisfying  _ click! _

Speaking of you, he wanted to check up. He didn't know why, but he just wanted to. The last time he saw you was from his side windows. He remembered seeing you walking away, getting smaller and smaller until he couldn't see you anymore. 

_ They should be home at this point _ , Frank thought to himself. He gave you enough time to drive back home without being followed by Pierre. 

Frank rolled his eyes as his name rolled off his tongue. He uttered a few curses, some in English and some in French, speaking with venom in either language. He turned on the engine and rode away from the alley, driving to his faux apartment.

—

You watched as Frank drove away and weaved in through the gaps between the cars until he was nowhere in sight. You let out a long sigh and slowly walked to your car. 

Frank dropped you off just away from the playground where your car was parked. You kicked at gravel and pebbles and leaves, anything on the ground and stuffed your hands into your pockets.

Then you felt something that you didn't leave the house with. You pulled it out and in your hand was Frank's face mask. The one you used to "protect your pretty face." You smiled and held it close. You put it into your pocket again as you neared your car. 

Here you were, back where you started. You felt the smooth stone gravel sink under your steps, making loud clacking sounds as they made contact with each other. You reached into your inside pocket, hoping your car keys were still there and didn’t drop along the trip. You dug through your pockets as you neared your vehicle, the sunlight bouncing off of it’s dark grey structure. The windows were tinted so that nobody could peek inside and intrude privacy. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you felt the jangle of your car keys. You held your hand over your chest, releasing an audible “whew!” while you looked up. You unlocked your car and got inside, igniting the engine. You closed the car door next to you as you fixed your inside mirror. 

You fluffed your hair a little bit and shook your head, giggling as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Before leaving the park, you turned on her bluetooth so you could listen to tunes as you drove away. You put on your favorite playlist. As the first song began to play, you suddenly felt a drop in your chest as the mood changed. Suddenly all the songs became about him. You didn’t care to change it, continuing to think about the time you spent together. 

You put the car in reverse and began to drive away from the park, on your way home. The drive back home was just the same as the one to the park, except this time you left with a disappointed feeling in your chest. You drove home as if you were on autopilot, memorizing the streets and lanes, the stoplights and the turns. 

You thought about your time together driving home. The way Frank’s mysterious aura intrigued you, making you question everything about him. The way his hands were surely rough and callused, but unsure if they were because of how his gloves hid them. There was an unusual feeling of home and safety in his arms; you felt protected whenever he held you, even when that was the last thing they should be. 

You couldn’t help but feel attached to Frank, his perfectionist self the exact opposite for your spontaneous trait. You were drawn to him, like metal and magnets. You kept thinking about how he was always there to catch you when you constantly tripped, already saving your life on your first date. You thought about how he held your hand, those black leather gloves of his cool against your small, warm ones. They were very much opposites, yet complementary to each other, red and green. 

_ “Barefoot in the park you start rubbing off on me . . .”  _

The radio sang, a distant noise in your mind. You heard the lyrics and was immediately thrown back to your walk in the park. You remembered wrapping your arms around his, clinging close to him as they crossed bridges and leaf covered paths. You remembered how the sun shone through the branches and leaves as you walked under them, making contact with the ground and highlighting the atmosphere. You remembered the flowers, the birds, the squirrels, everything about the scenery. 

You remembered their attempted small talk.

***

"So…" you tried to fill the silence, "uhhh… How old are you?" You asked slowly, not sure about how to word your question. 

"Twenty." Frank laughed as his eyes stayed on the dirt path. "How about you, hmm?" His voice was deep. If you were intimidated, you didn't show it.

"I'm nineteen, fresh almost out of teenage hood," you said, shrugging as if it meant nothing. In fact, you were scared. You were afraid of going out into the real world. 

Frank chuckled, his shoulders visibly bouncing, you could feel the cloth of his suit rub against your arms. You sighed and leaned your head on his arm, clinging closer if that was even possible.

***

_ "Who needs balance, I'll see you everyday . . ." _

Before you knew it, you were parked in your driveway. You looked around realizing you were home. You rubbed the back of your neck and looked back to see if you were home or not. 

"It looks like my neighborhood." You turned the engine off and grabbed your things. You took out your phone and checked the time, it was two o'clock in the afternoon. The sun was fully out this time, having trouble meeting the inside of the car, the tinted windows preventing its passage. 

You got out of the car and breathed in. You always did admire the earth. Any chance you were able to appreciate the sky you took it. Any chance you were able to breathe in the fresh air, you would do it.

You locked the car and walked toward the front door, switching to your house keys. The key slid into the keyhole with ease, making a satisfying clicking noise as you unlocked the door. 

You inhaled and looked around as you saw your plants and your bookshelf right across from you. You closed the door behind you and turned the lock as you began taking off your shoes. The mud had hardened against the bottom and sides of the sneakers. You frowned as you laid them against the wall, those were your favorite sneakers. The brown had stained the white with a hint of green from the grass.

You took off your socks and walked along the cold wooden floor. You shivered as you took out everything in your pockets and set them on the kitchen counter. You walked over to a table that held up a speaker, underneath it was an outlet. You plugged in your phone and turned the speaker on. 

The sound bounced off the walls of the small house. You proceeded to walk to the bathroom, taking off your windbreaker and dumping it to a pile of dirty clothes. 

You came back from your bedroom with a new set of home clothes; a baggy shirt and shorts. 

You took a hot shower to refresh yourself from the cold of the rain. It was nice to wind down in the shower, especially with hot water. The feeling of your clothes sticking to her skin and becoming stiff soon began to bother you, so the freedom of cleaning yourself was relieving. 

—

You brushed your hair until it went through smoothly. You put on an oversized shirt and shorts, the shirt went over your shorts but that was alright, there was no one else in the house to judge anyways. 

You ruffled your hair and walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, feeling the wooden floors with your bare feet. You walked over to your phone, the speaker still playing, and checked for notifications. Nothing.

You sighed as you checked the time instead; "3:00."

Putting your phone down, you moved to the couch and pulled the curtains back to let the sunlight inside. The song in the background was soft, giving your home a comfortable atmosphere. You loved your place, it was just how you wanted it. You were surrounded by your books, plants, there was plenty of sunlight to come across, and it was enough space. 

You hummed to the song and walked toward the kitchen. You decided you’ll make herself a meal and maybe some hot chocolate. 

You weren't much of a cook, so you stuck to making a sandwich again. It'd satisfy for now. You moved to the dining table and set down your plate and drink, lifting the chair so you could sit on it. 

Your hand grabbed for the hot chocolate. You put the mug to her lips but suddenly stopped as your mind wandered back to the diner. You remembered the feeling of Frank's eyes against yours, how he held eye contact. You remembered the way the cool feel of his hands rested on yours as you took out your money to pay. You remembered how his ruby red eyes glimmered when he smiled, and his deep voice when he talked and laughed.

You put down the mug before you dropped it. You took another bite from your sandwich and gazed off into the distance. 

You were almost done with your sandwich and took a sip of your cocoa when you heard a  _ ping! _ noise come from your phone. How you heard it through the music you didn't know. You took the last bite and clapped your hands together over the plate to get rid of the crumbs on your hands. 

You went over and unplugged your phone, disconnecting the bluetooth. You walked back to the table and unlocked your phone. You took a sip of your drink and read a message. You almost spat out what was in your mouth when you saw who it was from. 

"Hey ____. I'm sorry about leaving you alone at the park. Can I make it up to you?" The message read. 

You gasped, you didn't think Frank would text you. He really didn't seem to be the type to text now that you met him. 

"Frank! It's alright, I understand that you were in a hurry. Yes you can still make it up to me, what do you have in mind?" 

You grinned, replying. 

You waited for his text back as you finished your cocoa and put it in the sink. 

_ ping! _

"I'll pick you up at 6. Wear something warm." 

You checked the time, it was already quarter past four. There was time. 

_ Frank said to wear something warm? I wonder where we're going this time… _ you thought to yourself as you got up from the table and plugged your phone in again. 

"Something warm something warm…" you muttered to yourself as you looked through your selection of clothes. 

—

You walked to the bathroom for some finishing touches. You were a sucker for jewelry. You put on a pair of golden, circular earrings and a gold chain that shone against your black turtleneck. You messed with your hair for a while to settle on a look. 

Frank would arrive in fifteen minutes. 

In the meantime, you applied a perfume and walked back to the open space of the living room. The room glowed an orange hue with the sun falling. The sunbeams became blurry and dim, rather it’s strong streaks going through the windows. 

You grabbed your phone, your keys, wallet, and the face mask Frank gave. You stuffed them all neatly in a miniature red bag, keeping your keys in hand, and then went to put on the classic black vans that met your ankles. You waited on the couch until you heard the familiar roar of Frank’s motorcycle. You grinned and got up, wearing your green bomber jacket. You headed outside and played with your keys, twirling them with your index finger. 

The roar of the engine stopped as you opened your front door. Outside on the road you saw Frank in his helmet, getting off the bike. He was wearing a red turtleneck, a black blazer layered on top of it. An exclamation point played on your face as he took his helmet off, revealing his single, shimmering earring. Frank had his hair slightly gelled and slicked back, except for a single strand that stuck out. 

You closed the door behind you and locked it, swinging your bag around and putting the key inside. You stuck your hands into your pockets and approached Frank. 

“Hello, ____.” He said in that deep voice of his, grinning. You felt like you were underwater again. Frank didn’t have to do anything to make you feel helpless, one word and you’d swoon. At least, not physically. Frank leaned against the motorcycle and watched as you walked forward to him. 

“Hey Frank,” you replied, smiling. “This date will be better, I’m assuming?” 

“Let’s hope.” His grin stayed plastered on his face as he watched your actions. You were looking him up and down. 

“I didn’t think you’d be fashionable. So far you can ride a motorcycle, you can do magic tricks, and now you’re here styling. What else are you good at?”  You  counted off with  your  fingers and laughed at  yourself  making Frank chuckle.

Frank remembered something and turned around. He opened the seat and took out another helmet, except this one was smaller, almost like it was specifically for you. He put down the seat and turned back around slowly. 

As Frank was fully facing you, you saw what was in his hand. Frank held out the helmet towards you and smiled softly. His ruby gaze meeting yours once again. 

“May we?” Frank asked, bowing slightly, offering the helmet. 


	9. Six O'Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> put your hand in mine <3

“Frank, you shouldn’t have!” You took the mint green helmet and inspected it in wonder. It was glossy and sleek; bulky enough to be protective but not too heavy to be uncomfortable. You ran your fingers over its grooves and hollows, marvelling at the gorgeous design.

“But I did.”

You looked up at him. “You really went and got this just for me?” 

Frank caught himself staring at your soft eyes for a moment. You looked cute, he thought.

Snapping out of it, he leaned against his parked motorcycle and folded his arms. ”I have a collection.”

“Oh, so you have a helmet for every girl that gets on the back of your bike?” You teased.

Frank smiled, his teeth glowing white in the fading sunlight. “Yeah, for sure. You don’t?” He swung his leg over the motorcycle and sat down. "But for real, I have a collection. I design them. And some other stuff too.”

You gasped. “No way!” 

This was the first impression Frank had ever given about his career, hobbies or personal life  _ at all _ . You were intrigued.

“That’s so cool, what el-“ 

Before you could ask any more probing questions, Frank turned on the roaring engine and slipped on his helmet.

“Let’s go, Curious George.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. You fixed on your helmet, which fit perfectly snug on your head, and hopped on the bike.

You didn’t bother to ask where you were going; that would be a waste of your breath. As Frank picked up speed, you wrapped your arms tighter around his torso. How did you feel so safe with him? Riding against the sunset to an unknown destination with someone you’d just met today?

Frank had put you under his charming spell, somehow. It felt nice.

—

You hadn’t realised you reached your destination until Frank began to slow down. Throughout the whole ride you’d had your eyes closed, peacefully absorbing the soothing glow of the setting sun and the gentle warmth of Frank’s body. It was now dusk, the sky a splatter of deep pinks, oranges and blues.

Taking off your helmet, your gaze fell to the building ahead of her. “The mall?”

Frank nodded, now coming to a stop in the near-empty parking lot. He took his helmet off and took yours from you. “Fun, right?”

In reality, it was an opportunity for Frank to steal away another few hours with his object of false affection. Well, now assassination target. He still had three days left but, according to his calculations, tonight was his prime opportunity to get it over and done with. 

It was a shame, really — you seemed like a sweet person. But orders were orders. By the end of the night, your name would be crossed off his hitlist.

“You don’t seem like the type to get excited to go shopping.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, ____. I have layers,” he said dryly.

You smirked, holding back a semi-playful comment about his ‘layers’ being firmly stuck together with super-glue. “Ok, ok. Let’s go.”

As you proceeded to the entrance, the late-evening autumn breeze from earlier grew to more of a steady wind. It stirred the dead leaves littering the parking lot, making a satisfying rustling sound. Frank looked to you, noticing how you shivered and hugged your arms close around your bomber jacket.

“Chilly?”

“Huh? Oh— Don’t worry, it’s not that bad.” You lied.

“Please, I insist,” he said, already taking off his suit blazer.

You looked up at him; he was regarding you expectantly. Your prolonged eye contact made you feel something stirring in your chest. A nervous, but almost euphoric feeling. Again, his ruby eyes peered into your soul and made you feel all warm and fuzzy. Realising he was awaiting your consent, you gave a sheepish nod.

You took off your bag, allowing Frank to drape the black jacket over your shoulders, helping you wear your mini bag afterwards.

You noticed the subtle aroma of sweet vanilla that lingered in the suit, shadowed by a hint of cigarette smoke. You breathed it in fondly, unsure of why it brought you comfort. Maybe it reminded you of your father?

“Seems like it looks better on you anyway,” Frank remarked.

You grinned. With any other person, you would undoubtedly consider this pretty corny. But Frank's chivalry actually felt... genuine, somehow.

“How cliché,” you said to the ground, hiding your cheesy smile.

Frank chuckled. He let his hand linger closer to yours, you took the invitation to hold it.

You proceeded to the entrance hand in hand, comfortable in each other’s silence.

As you approached the automatic doors, you noticed that there were only a few people dotted around the place. “Wait, isn’t the mall closing soon?”

“We have time,” he said with a shrug.

The two of you explored around the mall, walking in and out of shops and stores. You went inside stores, looking through the racks of clothing and jewelry. Frank watched you skim your hands across the folded clothes, flipping them up to see their design and folding some back to be tidy. He watched you curiously, almost feeling bad that this would be the last night you’d see. 

Frank looked up and saw you were out of his sight, then he heard his name. He looked at the direction and saw you putting a shirt up to your chest, giggling. Frank raised an eyebrow, grinned, and nodded. You smiled and put the shirt away where you found it. 

You walked around some more, buying snacks when you got hungry. They stopped in front of a small food shop and ordered mini corndogs and pretzels. Frank ate the corndogs quickly, surprising you. You took a sip of your soda and wrapped your arm around Frank's, walking through the mall arm in arm. There were very little people, the small sound of chatter bouncing off the walls alongside the soft echoing music. 

It was now at least 7:45 — time seemed to pass so quickly when you were together. You sat down side by side in an empty seating area and you rested your head on Frank’s shoulder while munching on what was left of your pretzel.

“Today’s been really nice,” you said quietly, your mind wandering back to a mere 11 hours ago when you’d first met with your mysterious blind date.

Frank raised an eyebrow. You were speaking like the night was ending, but Frank had to stay for a little longer. It wasn’t late enough for him to carry out his mission yet. 

He turned to face you. “Who says it’s over?”

“The store owners who are seemingly all about to close.” You glanced at the metal roller shutters which were half open over many shop entrances.

“Hmm.” Frank stood up and held out his gloved hand. “Come on, we can find more to do. If we get locked in overnight, so be it.”

A coy smile grew on your lips. “Listen, as much as I’d love to spend the whole night with you, I really— woah!”

Frank pulled you to your feet before you could finish. “Hold that thought. Our next adventure awaits.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but let yourself be led to wherever Frank was taking you.

Before you knew it, you’d come across a door leading to a stairwell. Next to it was a large colourful sign that read: ‘ _ BRAND NEW SKATING ARENA: PLANET ICE _ ’.

“You up for it?” Frank asked you. It was less of a question, more of a dare.

You laughed heartily. “I have literally never ice skated in my life.”

“Perfect. First time for everything, right?”

Before you could respond, he pushed the door open and was leading you into the stairwell. It smelled of paint and wood — newly built, probably. The bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling illuminated the white walls which were covered in multi-colored neon arrows pointing down the stairs.

“After you,” he said, bowing slightly.

As you stepped down the stairs in front of him, Frank checked the time on his watch. Everything would have to go perfectly in order for him to pull this off with no blood on his hands.

Every other hit he’d ever carried out had been swift, calculated and precise. Well, almost every hit. 

This had become more complicated, and almost completely compromised at one point. Frank decided that was Pierre’s fault. If he’d told him that it was a kill mission from the beginning, you would’ve been dealt with before midday. But alas; here they were on their  _ second _ date, at an ice rink, wasting time while Frank waited for his opportunity to arise.

Frank’s head darted up as he realized you were out of his sight. 

“Come on, slow-poke!” you called from the bottom of the stairwell. “You have five seconds or I’m bailing.”

With a sigh, he headed down the stairs.


	10. Hey Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> layers

“Thank you,” you both said simultaneously as you picked up your hired skates. 

The last people on the ice rink seemed to just be getting off. Others were giving in their ice skates and putting back on their shoes and bags.

As the two of you sat down on the bench to put your skates on, Frank noticed you shivering slightly. “I did tell you to dress warm.”

You sat up. You were still wearing Frank’s blazer, which was warmer than your own bomber jacket, yet you still felt cold.

You looked at Frank, who was wearing a thick red turtleneck. “I thought you meant autumn breeze warm, not winter wonderland warm.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said with a smile. “Your body will adjust to it.”

His eyes dropped to your skates as he finished adjusting his own; they were sloppily done, with one far too loose and one too tight, and none of the straps were fastened safely. “You need some help?”

“Hmm, I think I’ve got it…” You attempted to stand up and yelped as you lost balance on one foot. Your ankle gave way, sending you lurching sideways with a sharp squeal.

Frank instinctively caught you by your flailing arm, and set you back on the low bench. “I don’t think you do,” he said, his lips curving upward. He kneeled to your feet to properly fasten your skates.

Your face went hot as you felt several pairs of eyes on you. “Hey, you know I’m always up for a challenge but… I’m not trying to end up being wheeled into the back of an ambulance today—”

“You’re right. You’re clumsy as fuck,” he said plainly as he finished tightening the last strap. 

You leaned back, shifting your weight onto your arms. “Exactly! So... maybe this isn’t the best idea?”

He looked up at you and arched an eyebrow, surprised at your hesitation. All his research had pointed towards you being more of a daring type. “Hm.”

There were still a couple of hours to waste before Frank would safely be able to carry out his plan. He was usually good at reading people, but he couldn’t tell if you were genuinely scared to get in the rink or if you were just tired and wanted to head home. Of course, the latter wasn’t a feasible option.

He rose to a taller kneel and let his ruby eyes fall on yours. “I promise I won’t let you get hurt.” His voice was low and soothing.

You let yourself get lost in his gaze for a moment - as you often do - until he stood and held out his hand for you to take.

“Okay. But if I fall on my ass even once, I’m leaving.”

Frank smiled as he pulled you to your feet, and waddled hand in hand to the rink’s entrance. It was completely empty, with the last few people leaving as the mall approached its closing time.

Frank quietly hummed along to the music that played softly from the wall-mounted speakers. " _ Hey, hey, hey lover, you don’t have to be a star… _ " the smooth, dreamy melody echoed across the vast arena in a way that felt so tranquil.

“Be warned: it’s slippy,” he said wryly.

You grinned at his droll humour. “Yeah, no shi— Gah!”

As soon as you stepped onto the ice, your right leg skidded forward unexpectedly making you completely lose your balance. 

Frank quickly hooked both of his arms under your shoulders from behind, taking on your full weight with ease. “Hey, I’ve got you.”

You scrunched up your face in embarrassment. The only reason why you were uncertain about going ice skating with him is because you knew you’d make an utter fool of yourself. 

Frank stepped onto the ice himself and carefully pulled you up to lean against the dasher board. “I won’t let go of your hand, ok?” You nodded, appreciating that his calm smile was more reassuring than mocking. Well, it was probably a mix of both.

You clinged to the board with your right hand and held Frank’s gloved hand tightly with your left. You basically dragged him along as you wobbled on the ice, stumbling along like a baby giraffe. Frank blankly watched you hopeless attempt at momentarily letting go of the board’s rail, and kept you stable by adjusting his grip to your forearm as you almost toppled. 

“You look like a newborn elephant trying to walk.”

You scoffed. “You’re telling me ice skating isn’t just walking on ice?”

Frank tilted his head back in laughter, gesturing for you to stop. He let go of your hand which you quickly clasped against the rail.

“Watch my movements.”

He sped off towards the middle of the arena. You watched his graceful strides — the way that he pushed forward each foot almost in sync with the music that played distantly; " _ True love and understanding, true love and understanding… _ "

You were in awe at how he glided effortlessly over the ice. When he got to the center of the rink he easily spun 180 degrees, weaving his legs in and out of each other like clockwork, and came to a stop with one quick skid. He skated like a pro.

“See?” he called over. He came back towards you with his hands in his trouser pockets, wading across the ice like it was nothing.

You simply looked at him in astonishment. 

“Wow.”

“I’m a little rusty,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You raised an eyebrow. “God. You’re just full of surprises, huh?”

“Layers,” he whispered with a smile. “Anyway, it’s your turn.”

You stood up straighter, realising you weren’t paying as much attention to his footing or technique as you were to his body as a whole. The way he spun on the ice with ease, no effort. How he glided across the rink, sometimes with his eyes closed, his hands behind his back, gracefully skating across the arena. You blinked, catching a small breath, fully realizing what you just thought. 

“Want me to show you one more time?” he asked. You nodded.

He took hold of your hand again. “You have to try focusing less on balancing and more on the motions of pushing forward.” You watched his feet next to yours as he continued. You advanced together, but he occasionally skated his feet backwards in a lemon shape to allow you to keep up.

“Left, right… left, right… see? You’ve almost got it.”

“Hey, this is kind of like roller skating! Except more slippery.”

“Pretty much.”

You went around the arena in a loop for about 20 minutes. Half of your conversation was chatting and flirting, half was Frank teasing you for having two left feet. Both of you were all smiles.

“Okay, you ready to move away from the edge?”

You looked up at him with a frown. “No, not really.”

He chuckled. “Come on. There’s no one else here to judge you.” 

You looked past the boards; he was right. Everyone else had left; only their shoes and your bag remained on the wooden benches. Even the employee running the snack bar was gone, having turned off every machine and light.

“It’s just you and me right now.”

You could hardly handle even glancing at him. The way his voice dropped in that moment made your heart flutter with such euphoria. You hadn’t felt butterflies that intense in quite a while.

You didn’t say anything as you let Frank drift slightly outwards, pulling you along with him. Cautiously, you let go of the rail. You could barely hear the music playing over your own pounding heartbeat. 

" _ When I’m around slow dancing in the dark, don’t follow me you’ll end up in my arms… _ "

“Left, right… left, right,” you quietly chanted in unison. Sometimes you would lose your balance, but Frank never let you fall. His fingers were securely intertwined in yours, and his grip tightened every time you were about to slip.

You went around and around for a while, not needing to say anything, simply enjoying each other's company.

You hadn’t noticed that Frank was slowly edging away from the boards until you realised you were right in the middle of the ice rink. 

“What?! We’re so far from the edge!” You turned to grab Frank’s other arm and clung onto his wrist. Frank started to skate backwards, with you now facing him.

He smiled assuredly. “Hey, don’t panic. Frankly, you don’t even need to hold onto anything — you’ve pretty much got the hang of it.”

You were about to respond when Frank suddenly let go of one of your hands. “Woah!”

He felt your other hand tense up as you held him onto him tighter. “What’d you do that for!” 

Frank grinned playfully as he raised his hand above your head and twirled you around twice. He held you tight enough to make sure you didn’t lose your balance.

After the second twirl, he gently took you by the waist and brought you closer making you gasp.

The music that softly played from above neared its climax; " _ I don’t wanna go home, can it be one night? Can you?... _ "

It felt like it faded into the background, a distant echo. All you could hear was each other’s panting breath as you stood in place on the ice, locked in each other’s gazes. Everything else melted away. You were in a dream world of your own...

Suddenly, the moment came to an end when you leaned forward slightly and lost your balance. With Frank being so distracted, he was caught off guard when your arms started flailing wildly and you teetered back and forth for a couple of seconds. His reflexes were delayed just enough for you to fall backwards onto the ice with a sharp shriek. Luckily, you stopped yourself with you hands before you could fall on the back of your head.

The two of you stared at each other for a good few seconds, shocked.

You suddenly burst into a laughing fit together, so uproariously that you ended up gasping for breath. Even after Frank helped you up by your cold, wet hand, you both nearly lost your balance from laughing so hard.

However, the noise caught the attention of somebody else. The sound of jangling keys approached the rink’s entrance. A small, tubby man in a high-vis jacket appeared. 

You and Frank's eyes darted toward him at the same time. The man looked you up and down. “Huh?!”

Frank glanced at his watch. Ah.

“Michael, I told you to usher everyone off the ice 10 minutes before closing time! I was just about to start up the Zamboni you useless piece of—”

A light turned on and another head popped out. You and Frank looked back to each other, trying not to laugh. “Sorry, boss! I must’ve lost track of time,” the younger man said, stuttering slightly. “We’ve been short-staffed today!”

The older man kissed his teeth and looked back to the two of you, who stood awkwardly on the ice, hand in hand. “Hey you two, we closed twenty minutes ago!” he called out, a thick New York accent lacing his speech.

“Sorry, my bad!” Frank called back bringing his gloved hand to his mouth. He was still stifling a sly smile, as were you.

The man shook his head and walked off as Frank led you to the rink’s exit.

“You broke your promise,” you said semi-jokingly. Your jeans felt heavier with the dampness of water on your backside. “I fell. On. My. Ass.”

“And that was your fault entirely.” You both laughed, and it echoed through the arena.

You took off your skates in a hurry, mindful of the employee rushing you both to leave, while Frank seemed to take his time. You chattered excitedly as you put back on your regular shoes. 

You headed towards the stairwell, smiling from ear to ear.


	11. Holding Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> like a cobra waiting to strike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! trigger warning: mention of choking / suffocation

The two of you left the mall, practically being pushed out since you were literally the last to leave. You both laughed as you went through the exit, occasionally looking back to see the lights turn off one by one. 

The night air was chilly and sharp against your nose. You hugged Frank's jacket around you and pulled it up over your nose. You could still smell the sweet scent of vanilla. Suits him just like his voice, you thought. The lingering aroma of cigarettes was there too, comfortable and bold. 

Frank's arm was around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, noticing your shivers under the cold, night air. You leaned your head against Frank's arm as you became closer to him. Your breaths formed clouds in the cool night. Frank pulled his turtleneck collar up to his mouth, the cold somewhat getting to him. 

The crunch of dead leaves under your feet stopped as you finally reached Frank's motorcycle. You looked back at the mall one more time to see all the lights turned off, workers leaving and locking up, heading for their vehicles. 

Frank let go of you and grabbed the helmets. He handed you your mint colored helmet, shining under the streetlamps of the parking lot. You ran your hand over it again, in awe that Frank designed it himself. You smiled. 

Frank saw you amazement over the helmet, your fingers glazing it gently. The sight made him warm, letting go of his collar and lightly smiling at you. He went to his bike and swung his leg over the seat, holding his helmet. 

You got close to the vehicle, placed your hands and leaned on the seat, facing the mall. "Thanks for the skate lessons." You said while tilting your head. Frank could hear your smile from your statement. The helmet sat in his hands while he shifted his gaze to the mall. 

"It's my pleasure," he ran a gloved hand through his hair and put on his sleek, black helmet. The visor was up since it was tinted and it would be too dark to see anything in the night. He felt the motorbike bounce as you got on. Your hand slipped around Frank's waist, the feeling of soft cotton brushed against his skin. Butterflies, but he shook them off. 

"You're going to take me home now though, right?" You trailed off, yawning and rubbing your eye, leaning against Frank's red sweater. You rested your weight on his back. Frank felt the solidity of your helmet on his back while turning the keys, the roar of the bike was muffled, white noise against the black night.

"Had enough of me already?" Frank replied against the soft engine. He felt you giggle against his back. 

"Fine, but you better take me back home."

Frank kicked up the side stand and eased into the ride. Another trip on Frank's motorcycle, another daydream. You were honestly tired but you didn't mind spending another hour or so with Frank. His suit jacket was snuggled up against you, the wind picking up his scent. 

You left the parking lot, driving into the road and freeways. You hugged close to Frank as you rode away into the night. It was always a dream when you were on the back of Frank's bike. You didn't have to do anything but keep close and watch your surroundings, and the surroundings were breathtaking. 

The lights from faraway houses and buildings shone in the dark of night. They were blurred by the movement of the ride, making it more ethereal. The soft oranges and reds, occasionally whites, of the faraway lights made you comfortable. You breathed in the cold, night air, relishing existing in the moment. It was times like this that you were grateful you could live for. 

The wind blew past your jacket and the suit jacket, making it ruffle. You looked up at the sky, seeing all the stars that dotted the night. They were like holes, the light of the heavens poking through. 

You merged into the main road, away from the freeway. This time, you saw the cars pass, or you passed the cars. You hugged closer again as Frank weaved into the gaps between the cars, even though there weren't many. You didn't expect there to be a lot of people out anyway, it was really late. Still, the lights made the experience otherworldly.

You hummed and rested your weight on his back, and said something that Frank couldn't hear, he only felt your vibrations apart from the engine as you spoke. His eyes stayed fixed on the road as he went through his plan again. 

— 

You felt the engine die down and opened your eyes. You had dozed off for a little bit, tired from the time at the mall. Your mind was still catching up to what happened as Frank got off the motorcycle. The bike bounced up as his weight was relieved from its back. You took off your helmet sloppily, Frank watching you struggle with your drowsiness. He chuckled, hooking his helmet to the handle, and moved to help you with yours. 

He unbuckled the strap and took it off your head. You sighed, "Finally." You hopped off the motorbike, stretched and yawned, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. Frank hooked the helmet to the handle by its straps. Your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. They were at the park again. You scoffed.

“You really love the park, don’t you?” You grinned through your exhaustion. Frank reached out his arm, inviting you to wrap your arm around it. 

“C’mon, you’re not done with me yet, are you?” You shook your head and laughed, wrapping your arm around his as you began to walk to nowhere, following the path. “Fine.”

And so you walked and spoke of things; favorite holiday, color, song, all the basic things. But when it came to really personal life, Frank held back from giving any information and only gave you silence, tugging at his collar to change the subject. You walked until you reached the bridge where you first met. 

“What about you? What’s your story?” 

Silence fell upon you as you broke off your arm from Frank’s and walked toward the wooden railing. You looked down into the water, pondering deeply about Frank’s question. Frank stopped in his tracks when you let go of his arm, listening to the heavy thumping of your footsteps as they hit the wood of the bridge. 

“You want the whole story?” You sighed. Frank didn’t say anything. You heard his slow footsteps on the wooden platform, continuing to look into the water, observing the reflection of the stars and watching the ripples play through its surface. 

It was the perfect moment. This was what he’d planned for. Frank could strike right now. He could do it. Now was the time. He had to execute it now or else the whole mission would be permanently compromised. His hands inched forward, slowly closing in on her neck, like a cobra waiting to strike. 

“Well,” you began. Frank held back. “I moved out as soon as I turned 18. I had to.”

Frank narrowed his eyes, intrigued, his hands trailing back down slowly to his sides. “They… forced you to?”

“No,” you replied, looking up to the stars. “ _ I  _ forced myself to.”

He looked down, taking in your words. This contradicted the information he was given by Legion. He bared his teeth and scowled, clenching his gloved fists. They gave him… false information?

“I love my parents, I really do,” you continued. “They’ve given me everything I could ever ask for. And even though they were busy, they always made time for me. They’re great.” You smiled and tilted your head, remembering the memories you had with your parents.

“Oh, nice..." Frank uttered, his mind whirring trying to connect the pieces of this puzzle.

“I guess... I guess I just needed to prove something. To myself. That I can do something by myself —  _ for _ myself — y’know?”

He nodded.

“So I started working at the café like two years ago. I picked up every shift I could; I worked overtime every other day. It was tiring, but it felt good! It felt rewarding!” You emphasized your words with hand gestures, raising your hands to the skies at the last sentence.

You sighed, now stuffing your hands into the blazer’s pockets. “When I finally made the deposit last year, that was meant to be a weight off my shoulders. A burden relieved, so I could finally breathe. I’d done something for me, with no help.”

You stood in silence, the trickling of the running water filling it in. “And then... they suddenly turned so overprotective. It became a matter of keeping me safe and guarded at their house.” You forced a laugh. “I mean, safe from what? Are there murderers roaming the streets now?”

Frank blinked, his breath hitching. He tugged at his turtleneck collar.

“I just wanna go where the wind takes me. I love my parents but I’ll saw my own hand off before I continue their lineage in that godforsaken boring career.” Frank could hear the disgust in your voice. You spoke of their career with such venom in your tongue. He didn’t understand. This went against most of the information he was given. 

You sighed, as if a burden was lifted from your shoulders. You turned around and rested your elbows on the railing and leaned your body on it. You faced Frank who was standing by the railing, his hands clenched, overlooking the sparkling water. You saw how his expression was hard again, stern. You always wondered what went through that mind of his. Why was he so angry sometimes? Why did he hold back from telling you who he is?

“Frank?” You called out, reaching a hand to his shoulder. “Frank, none of it means anything, really! I just don’t want to follow in my parents’ path, that’s all!” Your hand lingered around Frank’s, but he took a step back and pulled away from your touch. 

“Frank?” You frowned, your hand falling back down to your side. Frank growled lowly, turning to the railing, holding his head in his hands while his elbows rested on the rail. You heard him muttering to himself, spitting curses out like poison. 

You approached him carefully, lifting a hand to place on his arm. “Frank it’s okay, really.” Just as you were about to place your hand, Frank turned around and grabbed it. You gasped as your hand was in both Frank’s grasp. His touch was gentle, but firm at the same time. He was tense. He held your hands close to his chest while he looked down. You wrapped her other hand around his. 

“Frank-” 

“I- I'm sorry, Rose, but I need to take you home now.” 

Your hands became heavy in Frank’s, “Oh... okay.”

Frank looked down, his mind was running. Was he given false information? It couldn’t have been true. But was he really going to ignore your story from your mouth, from your experience? You walked back to the motorcycle hand in hand, but in silence. 

— 

The ride home was quiet. Too quiet for you, it was almost deafening. It made you uncomfortable seeing Frank like this. You knew that you've only been together for a total of nine hours, but you couldn't help but pick up on his behavior and habits. 

The tires crunched to a stop as you parked in front of your house. The engine roar lowered and the vibration disappeared. Frank was just taking off his helmet when he felt the seat bounce up as you got off. You stood in front of the motorcycle, your helmet already in your hands. Frank looked at it and then looked towards you. Your eyes were on the helmet, your thumbs rubbing across its surface. 

You handed the helmet to Frank who was still sitting on the motorcycle. He noticed that you were giving it back to him. Frank waved his hand and gently pushed it back to you, a signal to keep it. You smiled and hugged it close.

He began to get up from his bike, but you ushered him to stay. 

"You.. don't want me to escort you?" Frank tilted his head as he proceeded to latch his helmet onto a handle. You giggled at his words and shook your head. 

"Listen, thank you for today, it was really nice." Your expression made an exclamation point as you gently put down the helmet on the ground and then took off your backpack. Frank raised an eyebrow and realized that you were giving back his jacket. You took it off, still wearing your green bomber jacket underneath. 

You approached him and wrapped the jacket around him, an excuse to get close. Frank opened his mouth to say "Thank you," but was interrupted when he felt a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Frank put a hand on his cheek, not knowing what to say. He watched you grab your backpack and your helmet.

"See you later alligator." You smiled and turned around, heading for the door. You reached into your bag for your keys. With a turn of a knob and the shut of a door, you disappeared from Frank's sight, again.

His hand was still where you kissed him. It's not that he didn't care or anything when it came to human contact, but this one felt… different. He took his hand and looked at it, he was shaking. He closed it forcefully and grabbed his helmet. 

His actions were hurried and sharp. He slotted his hands into the arms of his jacket, wore his helmet, and turned on the ignition. With a roar of his engine, he was gone.


	12. Behind the Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! trigger warnings: mention of killing / murder / assassination / death / weapons
> 
> ( Frank centered chapter )

Frank ran his hand through his hair, tousled from his bike helmet, as he approached the door of his apartment. He opened it and set down his keys on the side table. As he walked inside, the wall to the door was a faded red-orange, bricked from the left and right. The living room was open as he walked in, the kitchen separated by a marble counter top. There was a houseplant on the counter, and another small one on the dining table just to the right of the door. It didn’t fit into the grey, drab setting of the rest of the apartment block.

Well, it wasn’t actually his apartment. He lived at Legion’s Headquarters, but they’d provided a cover apartment specifically for this mission in case Frank needed somewhere discreet to keep you while awaiting news of the successful assassination of your parents.

Looking around, Frank now realised that this was actually meant to be the site of your murder. He felt foolish for not realising it before. The smooth oak laminate flooring throughout the apartment was definitely intentional; no chance of blood staining any carpet. Frank turned up his nose at the thought. He preferred silent, discreet killings; a bit of poison, good ol’ kidnap plus suffocate combo, maybe even just a pill would do the trick. Mess-free. And if it came to it, his preferred weapon was a sniper over a knife or a hatchet — even if he was extremely well-trained in a range of weaponry.

He ran his hands along the TV stand, furrowing his brow. Just about every surface was covered in a thin clear sheet of laminated adhesive, which could easily be peeled off and discarded to eliminate the issue of fingerprints.

Even the district the apartment was located in had its advantages. Not too busy, barely populated. Frank could drag a suspiciously large burlap sack along the street and no one would be there to notice. In fact, he hadn’t seen one police car in this area. It was almost like it had been… abandoned.

Frank’s expression hardened, as he realised it was probably the work of your parents. Capitalism at its finest: neglect this lower-income area of the city and instead increase funding on flashy statues and sculptures in central, or new developments in the suburbs.

As he hung up his jacket on the coat rack and took off his gloves, he wondered if Legion ever really intended for you to live, or if this was their plan all along. He frowned at the thought; surely not. He could always count on the organisation. Always. 

His mind drifted back to his initial induction as an official member. He had been working behind the scenes for a while, an apprentice in designing new gadgets, weapons and even vehicles for Legion. He was only 13 or so at the time; they saw him as some kind of tech prodigy. Nowadays, his skill set wasn’t too hard to come by in any other regular recruit.

Back then, however, Legion picked their younger recruits out of people who had no other options. Those who were desperate for a purpose, or determined to prove something to themselves. Sometimes even orphans like Pierre, who were picked right off of the streets to join Legion. Looking back, it was pretty unethical of them to manipulate their desperation like that. They were all so young. However, Frank would have nothing without them. He had to be grateful.

Anyway. It wasn’t until Pierre’s arrival that things started to change for Frank. He’d come with a small batch of new international recruits. He was merely 15, but stood tall next to his 16 to 18-year-old counterparts. He had intimidated most other recruits, but Frank was unphased.

* * *

_ “Booyah!“ he bellowed, slamming the door open to Frank’s sleeping quarters. He carelessly tossed his bags onto one of the bunk beds and punched the air enthusiastically. _

_ “What’s up roomies,” he said exuberantly with a cheeky smile. _

_ Frank looked up from his Nintendo DS and raised an eyebrow. He stayed in his lying position while his other four roommates sat up and gawked at the new boy, or got up to greet him with a fist bump or high five. _

_ “Yes, I know, my presence is shocking, amazing, awe-inspiring! Bathe in my excellence!” He spread his arms and looked to the ceiling as if he was a god to shower in worship and praise. The others laughed while Frank looked back to his game. _

_ “Nice accent, new kid.” One of the boys remarked in a mocking tone. Frank noted that actually his English was still fluent through his strong French accent. _

_ Pierre punched the kid's arm playfully, but probably used more force than intended. The poor guy winced in pain as he gripped his arm. “Dude!” _

_ Pierre laughed and swung his arm around the boy’s neck. “If you really must know, they told me I was too good for my division back home. I’m sure you’ve seen my stats,” he said, rolling up the sleeves of his brand new and freshly ironed uniform to flex his underdeveloped biceps. “Top of the ranks, highest kill streak, you know how it is.” _

_ “Woahhh,” the other kids gasped in unison. “You do kill missions?” _

_ “You _ don’t?”  _ His smug smile grew. “Haha! I should’ve guessed, just by the looks of this crew. I mean, get a load of this kid,” he said, nodding towards Frank. He boisterously swung around the adjacent bunk bed’s ladder, landing with a thump on the lower bunk. He was now eye level with Frank. _

_ “We all work behind the scenes,” Frank replied plainly, still focused on finishing his level of Mario Kart. “Engineering, coding, mechanics, design…”  _

_ Pierre exaggerated a gasp, his mouth hanging open in mock rage. “Nooo! They’ve stationed me in here with all the nerds! A shining star like meee? I’d rather go bunk with the girls in the female quarters!” He threw the back of his palm to his forehead, pretending to faint. “Oh mon Dieuuu,” he groaned. Everyone but Frank laughed.  _

_ “Who even are you?” Frank said. _

_ He turned up an eyebrow and scoffed. “Oh, come on now,” he said, his voice dropping lower as he stood up to look down at Frank. He kicked the DS out of his hand and it landed on the hard floor with a thump. _

_ Frank sighed and stood up to face him. This guy didn’t intimidate him in the slightest. He noticed the boy’s eyes widen slightly as he realised that Frank was just a few inches off his height. _

_“I’m Pierre Froid, kiddo._ _AKA_ Stone Cold.” _He leaned forward, his nose almost touching Frank’s. “Everyone around here is gonna know my name, and that’s a promise.”_

_ Frank examined him carefully. His eyes were a bright magenta — freshly branded by Legion. The whites of them were slightly red, most likely from the chemicals used in the colour changer. Either that or he was high. The neon substance stung like a bitch — Frank knew that first-hand — but Pierre was showing no signs of being in pain at all. He also had an old scar that slashed the skin over his left eye, slitting his eyebrow in half. _

_ When he sat back down with a shrug and picked up his DS, Pierre ran his hand through his dark brown hair, shaved at the sides, and went back to boasting of his past victories to his new roommates. _

* * *

Neither of them would’ve guessed that they’d end up being randomly paired up together a week later, much to each other’s dislike. However, over time while they trained together and got to know each other better, their tolerance for each other grew. Frank even designed a few gadgets specifically for him, plus a custom purple motorbike. 

They quickly became well-known in the organisation for being the young brains and brauns duo who completed their non-kill missions with ease and finesse.

The next thing they knew, they had been promoted to sicarii — trained assassins. Frank remembered what he’d said when he was first told the news:

* * *

_ “You and Pierre make an excellent team,” the man said, typing away at his keyboard. Frank looked off to the side. He knew deep down that he did all the hard work himself. Pierre just boasted about it louder.  _

_ "I know you’re a tad young, but your old position doesn’t do you justice anymore. You have a knack for precision, for calculation, for perfection — that’s been clear since day one. Not to mention your obvious talent during combat training. You’re made for this! And with Pierre?” He gave a chef’s kiss motion with his hand.  _

_ “Unstoppable.” _

_ Frank had blocked out most of the speech from Raja, his mentor. His mind was in a place of its own as he scanned the office for an object to fixate on. He sat up straighter as he realised that Raja was awaiting a response. _

_ “Uhh… I can’t do it, boss. I don’t know…” Frank shivered. “It just doesn’t feel right.” His voice cracked as he spoke. _

_ Raja frowned at him, looking up from his computer and folding his arms. “Why not?” _

_ Frank looked down at his twitching fingers and folded them tightly over his lap. That was a pretty broad question. Why did he even need a 14-year-old boy to explain his morals against murder? _

_ “Because…” he paused, cautiously trying to consider his next words. “I- I know it’s for a good cause. I know that. But… I don’t know if people deserve to... die. To have their lives come to an end, because of their mistakes. My mother always used to tell me that— that killing is evil.” _

_ Raja raised his eyebrows at that last word. It made Frank flinch. He hated maintaining eye contact with him; the way that his luminous yellow eyes bore into his made him feel so exposed. _

_ He leaned forward on his desk, smiling at Frank. “You always have been my favourite, mon lapin.” Frank rolled his eyes at the nickname. Pierre had coined it. “Always so inquisitive.” Frank didn’t know how to respond to this praise, so he simply nodded. _

_ Raja dropped his smile. “There is no such thing as evil, boy. That’s your conscience talking. What did I tell you about getting rid of that?” his mentor tutted. Frank hung his head.  _

_ “There is right, and there is wrong. We know the difference. It doesn’t matter whether or not you do for now. All you need to know is this: the things we do are necessary for justice. We do it for the people, alright?” He picked up a pen and twirled it between his fingers. _

_ “And Frank," he paused, throwing the pen to a wall, a fly on the other end, twitching. Frank didn't have time to lean back, feeling the air that whizzed past his nose. He gulped.  _

_ "Anything your parents used to tell you is in the past. That was back then. We are your family now. _ Fiducia, fidelitas, fraternitas,”  _ he said in a grave tone. _

“Fiducia, fidelitas, fraternitas,”  _ Frank repeated back. Latin wasn’t one of the 13 languages that Legion forced their recruits to be fluent in, but the mantra was drilled into their brains.  _

_ Trust, loyalty, brotherhood. _


	13. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pierre was right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! trigger warning: mention of killing
> 
> ( Frank centered chapter )

Frank sat down on the couch and slumped back, not realising that a small, fluffy white cat had been lying asleep on the cushion next to him this whole time. “What’s up, Meow Meow,” he said quietly. He felt her low purr vibrate as he ran his hand along her soft fur.

He tried to stay calm, but Frank’s mind was racing. He had a lot to figure out.

Everything in your file had to be taken as fact; Legion never lies. They had no reason to. Frank had pledged his loyalty to them — the organisation had never given him one reason not to trust them. 

So that means you were lying. Yes, surely. Because — according to your file — your parents were completely heartless. They forced their own child to move out after one political disagreement. Therefore you weren’t a threat — quite the opposite, actually. You held useful information about the Sybo family. He rubbed his chin. Why would they want you dead now?

Frank gently picked up Meow Meow and got up to sit at his desk. All that was on it was a computer, a mouse, a keyboard and a small houseplant. It appeared normal at first, but the computer had no access to the web. Only to Legion’s network database.

He turned it on, setting the cat down on his lap.

‘SEARCH FILES’ it read in bold red letters.

Frank typed ‘Sybo _,_ ’ and clicked on the first file that came up.

‘FILE ENCRYPTED

Password: _______’

He typed it in swiftly; it was muscle memory at this point.

‘AUTHORISED

Decrypting file…’

He nervously tapped his finger on the table until a page of information popped up.

‘SYBO FAMILY

Mission 61811411.’

Frank scrolled past the long list of ‘Sybo’ politicians and all of the info that came with them, until he came to your parents. His eyes narrowed.

‘Tanashiri and Jada Sybo’

Their names were in red underlined, meaning that there was a hit on them in the process of being executed.

He spent about half an hour reading every detail about their lives. Tanashiri Sybo was apparently voted in for the first time 12 years ago, and bribed his way up the ranks of politicians involved in passing legislations, just like his father and grandfather before him. Every supposed election was, apparently, a hoax. 

His wife, Jada Sybo, began as a civil servant and elevated in power following her marriage. She was now a part of an executive agency within the government. They were both quite powerful. 

Frank frowned to himself. This ‘political lineage’ seemed more like a monarchy.

What was he doing anyway? He didn’t need to be snooping around you or your parents’ files. He got all the info he needed at the beginning of his mission. If anything justifiably important had changed, Legion would let him know. 

As he closed the file window, he noticed a notification pop up in the corner of his screen. What he saw when he clicked on it made his heart drop.

‘____ SYBO’

He’s stared at the screen in disbelief, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. The bold red letters with a harsh line under them screamed at him through the screen.

You hadn’t been on his hit list this morning. So, Pierre was right.

It’s not that Frank was doubting his organisation’s judgement; it’s just… it suddenly felt very real. Frank buried his head in his hands.

It didn’t matter how. It was 1:39am; you would have to be gone within the next 60 hours.

Their date. Frank’s thoughts lingered on it. It was just meant to be a time waster; a way to keep you occupied as they waited for the day to fall into concealing darkness. That was when he should’ve done it. No hesitation. No excessive pain. 

He winced at the thought of Legion’s brutal methods. Some sicarii would inflict as much pain on their targets as physically possible, without second thought. It went against their code, but it was extremely normalised. You didn’t deserve to be beaten to death, or tortured into submission.

So it would have to be him. He needed to do it himself, and on time. Otherwise, any other Legion member could intervene as they pleased.

But why?

Why… did he not want to?

Pierre’s low voice echoed in his head: _“Feelings will_ always _get in the way. If you’re going to let your own emotions blind you, you might as well kiss goodbye to your career. This is not the place for that shit.”_

At that moment, his phone vibrated on the table, making Meow Meow stick her head up in curiosity. 

The screen lit up with a message from an unknown number:

 _"job done? >:)" _ it read, followed by a hamster emoji. Pierre, no doubt.

 _I am not in love with Rose,_ he repeated in his head. But a nagging voice in the back of his mind was persistently telling him that something was off. Frank had subdued his good conscience many years ago. It had nothing useful to say. Neither did the devil on his other shoulder; Legion taught that the only voice you should listen to is the voice of reason. 

So he did. And reason was telling him to kill you.


	14. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> was yesterday a dream?

You woke up with a chill. It was a funny feeling really, since it wasn’t cold. You shuddered and shook it off, rubbing your eyes with your palms, your blanket still around you. You sat up on the bed, gripping your blanket and looking around the bedroom. Dull daylight spilled into the room through the closed curtains. You stretched and got out of bed. You fixed your bed and opened the curtains after you went to put on a large, grey hoodie. 

You stood in front of the window, taking in all of the sunlight, and stretched your arms, going on your tippy toes at the end. You hugged the hoodie around you close, feeling its fuzzy lining on your skin. Then your mind lingered to Frank. How he offered you his jacket noticing how you were cold, how you walked hand in hand throughout the empty store, how he taught you how to ice skate, your walk at the park in the late hours. You sighed. 

Was it a dream? It couldn’t have been, you lived it. You lived a dream. You grinned at the thought of Frank. You daydreamed for a little bit and then went to the kitchen to make yourself some grilled cheese. The sizzle of the butter on the grill filled the air as you made some coffee. You placed a slice of cheese on the bread and took a sip of your coffee. You sighed, inhaling the scent of coffee and grilled cheese.

Ten minutes passed by, you dancing to the music you put on while you cooked a simple breakfast. You giggled as you lightly skipped to the dining table, holding your plate with grilled cheese on it and your coffee in the other. You set down your meal and sat yourself in a chair, soft music playing in the background. 

You bounced your shoulders to the beat of the music. 

“Fine, electrify mine, electrify my golden tooth.”

You took a bite of your grilled cheese and already dazed off into space. You tried to recall your dream. Realizing that it was about Frank, you shook your head. You couldn’t get him out of your head after the dates. You thought about his touch, except you couldn’t really feel him because of his gloved hands. You hoped you could hold his hand properly one day. 

You rested your chin on your palm, your arm propped up on the table, taking a sip of your coffee. It was like you've fallen into a trance, shot by cupid, put under a spell. Your big sleeves were folded up to your forearm to prevent it from catching crumbs. 

“Can’t look at your eyes without sparking some…”

You thought back about his eyes. The way they shone under the light like rubies. A field of roses and tulips. How you wanted to fall into them and gaze at his eyes until time ended. Looking at his eyes was like staring at a pair of cherries. You could fall into his gaze and wouldn’t mind if you couldn’t climb back out. 

You almost forgot about your breakfast and ate it before it got cold. Frank stayed in the back of your mind while you did your daily routine. You put down your sleeves after your morning schedule. You walked back out to the living room and fell onto the couch. The curtains were drawn back letting in sunlight. The sky was a light blue from the early day, the dust in the room being slightly illuminated. 

You held your phone, music always playing in the atmosphere of her house, and thought about how Frank always seemed to hold back something from you. You gripped your phone tighter and laid your head back on the couch. You groaned and put your palms to your eyes. Your mind wandered to the bike rides on the back of Frank’s motorcycle. The way everything seemed to be a dream whenever she was with him. 

You thought about how he dropped you off at the park with no explanation. You began to feel frustrated. He could have at least told you.

Why? Why did you feel like this? It was only one day and you're already head over heels for him. It was only one date—well, two actually—and he was already stuck in your mind. Your hands fell to your sides and you continued to look up at the ceiling. You turned off the music and let the birds fill the air. Their chirps were calming since they implied the new day. 

You hated how mysterious he was, how coated with anonymity he was. You couldn’t even feel his hands. You wondered if you could get to know him better, get him to open up. Your fingers hovered over your phone, pondering if you should text him. You wondered if Frank would text first. Your eyes darted to the clock and back to your phone. You constantly turned it on and off as if a new notification, specifically from Frank, would pop up. Nothing. 

You thought hard about sending the first text until you couldn’t take it anymore. You gripped your phone and unlocked it and pressed on Frank’s messages. Youpressed on the text box, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard. You typed multiple opening texts, constantly backspacing and retyping the same thing over and over again, just in different ways.

“heyyy” 

“hi!”

“hello :)”

“hey there <3” 

Those were just a few of the opening statements you kept on rephrasing. You couldn’t decide on one and eventually gave up, closing your phone and throwing it gently across the couch. You scooched away from it, moving to the far side of the couch as if the device was toxic. You hugged your legs close and pulled your hoodie over them. You put up your hood that hung over your eyes and hugged your legs, the sleeves going over your hands. 

_ Bzzzt. _

You lifted your hood and looked cautiously to your phone. You reached over and grabbed it. Unlocking the phone, you saw a notification. 

"hey, rose. i just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. sorry again for my abrupt behavior."

You read the lines carefully and double checked to see if it was Frank who really sent it. It was. You unlocked and pressed on the notification, practically immediately replying back. 

"frank! hey goodmorning im doing okay actually and it's fine"

You winced at your response knowing you could do better, but you didn't know what else to say. You hit the paper airplane button and sent the text. 

You put the phone down again and waited. You were caught by surprise when you immediately got another notification.  _ Chatty, aren't you? _ You thought to yourself as you began tapping on the keyboard again. 

You started chatting for a little while, giggling from time to time because of his silly responses. Then Frank asked if he could see you again. 

"sure! where are you taking me this time??" 

You smiled at the texts, curious as to where you would go now. 

"can i take you to my place?" 

You were shocked for a short while, your thumbs hovering over the keyboard thinking about what you could say. You chose your next words carefully. 

"oh uh, can you take me somewhere first before your place?" 

"i'll meet you at 12"

"should i 'dress warm' again," you giggled.

"actually, dress cool this time"

You looked at his last message in wonder. 

"What does he mean, 'dress cool?'"


End file.
